


My Beloved Darling Sweetheart

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24455422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Felix didn't consider himself a manipulative man. He didn't think he would ever lower himself to use any blandishments to get his way. There were times, however, when drastic measures needed to be made.Or: When Felix (reluctantly) calls Dimitri by his childhood nickname to get what he wants.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 3
Kudos: 138
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Example 1

Felix didn't consider himself a manipulative man. He didn't think he would ever lower himself to use any blandishments to get his way. There were times, however, when drastic measures needed to be made. 

One day wrought a particularly awful argument between the two. Dimitri sat behind his desk, solemn and stoic, unwavering on his side of the dispute. Meanwhile, Felix was seething and bristling, his ire tantamount to crackling flames. After a long hour of fighting, when it was clear that neither men would surrender to the other, they both deflated and sighed in weariness. 

"Must you be difficult?" Felix groaned, placing a hand to his temple as though to quell an oncoming headache.

"I apologize, Felix," Dimitri said, remorseful yet unwilling to concede, "but it's my duty as king to see to the issue."

"Then assign someone to take care of it! Your presence is unnecessary."

"I cannot."

Felix grounded his teeth, tempted to lash out again. However, he was well-aware of how much success would yield from that, so he stayed his tongue. In their first year of acting as the king and his advisor, disagreements were a common fixture in their relationship. Dimitri often had ideas that Felix would be happy to support, but the only contention he had was how said ideas were to be implemented. 

Dimitri was as reckless and idiotic as he had been in their younger years. The only difference between now and then was that the king had grown resistant to Felix's criticisms. Had Felix become soft or did the king become complacent in his stupidity? What use did the man have for an advisor if he wasn't going to heed to any advice given to him?

Felix resisted sighing. He had done a lot of sighing and he was tired of sighing any more. He was tired of snarling and pacing around in Dimitri's office like a restless animal. He was tired of these one-sided shouting matches that never seemed to end. But as much as he would like to retire to his quarters and fade away into a void of slumber, he couldn't stop until he got Dimitri to _see reason_. 

It was getting late and today had been _taxing._ They had a meeting with the lords and ladies of the former Alliance territory, which had unnecessarily stretched from morning to the afternoon all because of a frivolous dispute regarding trade. Afterwards, there had been a notice about an uprising somewhere in the former Adrestian lands - Imperialist sympathizers who couldn't accept the status quo. 

Dimitri had gotten into his head that he was obligated to see to the insurrection himself, which was absurd because he was the king. He could - _should -_ delegate someone to handle the issue. A king had far more important matters to tend to than take over a general's duty. Yet Dimitri, the self-sacrificial fool that he was, saw that staying behind would be no different than him running away, as he continued to be haunted by his past actions when he had been mad, lurking as a bloodthirsty loon during those five years. 

Felix swiftly considered his options. Clearly, yelling at him didn't work as did offering rational points. Everything seemed to fly over the king's head. If he didn't hear what he wanted to hear, he wouldn't register the words. Stupid, stupid boar. 

Felix knew that, as the starry night sky darkened the windows, he didn't have much time until he would be dismissed. And if his mounting exhaustion hadn't been enough to drive his desperation, he was also quite frightened for Dimitri's sake. The man was by no means a weakling even after a year of just sitting - to discuss with dignitaries or to read reports. Dimitri was still the beast that he had been during the war. But even with his condition at its peak, Fodlan couldn't have their king be put at risk. _Felix_ couldn't have that. 

Hence why Felix ultimately ended up saying, "Dima, please don't do this."

Dimitri froze.

Felix forced himself to look at Dimitri in the eye, to not scrunch his brows or squint. He hated eye contact; there was something unnerving about maintaining it, which was why he usually cast his gaze elsewhere. Dimitri, though, had always expressed his strange fondness in staring into his eyes (something about watching the sunset), which was why Felix was putting up with this. Felix anxiously swiped his tongue over his dry lips before gritting out, "I'll - I'd hate it if you got - got hurt. Dima, please? Don't go. Stay here."

"I - Felix." Dimitri, for the first time in a long time, sounded stunned. Breathless. His blue eye widened as his lips parted in quiet agape. Felix struggled looking at him any longer.

After a moment of Felix's version of a simpering damsel (ugh), he finally got the answer that he waited to hear: Dimitri agreed to stay. 

"If you insist, Felix, then I will do as you say," Dimitri said, cheeks bright red. 

"Great," Felix exhaled, his cheeks equally red. "Great."

Never let it be said that Felix Hugo Fraldarius didn't do anything for Fodlan. 


	2. Example 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Felix's characteristic insensitivity regarding Dimitri's psychological issues.

There were times when Dimitri's sanity was well intact, and there were times when it was hanging precariously by its hinges. During these times, Dedue normally would be the one to attend to the king's episodes. However, seeing that the man was overseeing Duscur's rebuilding, the responsibility fell to Felix.

Dedue had cautioned Felix not to allow his anger get the best of him, which promptly angered the duke. Although, granted, Felix had understood the point that the man had been trying to make. Felix knew with crystal clarity just how easy it was to incite his rage, and he had come to learn that rage wasn't a suitable response whenever Dimitri would have his fits. If anything, that would only drive the man further into the depths of his madness.

Felix breathed in and out heavily, mentally preparing himself for the mess that he would have to clean up. Finally, he stepped past the threshold of the king's bedroom and surveyed what was before him.

As expected, the room really was a mess. 

The furniture was turned over, the curtains were ripped, papers and glass shards were scattered across the floor...

And huddling in a corner was a large hulking man with his clothes rumpled and hair disheveled. Felix gingerly closed the door behind him and approached Dimitri with soft steps. When he entered the man's periphery, Dimitri jolted violently, his blue eye wildly appraising him.

"Glenn?" Dimitri rasped.

Felix bit down his lower lip, clamping down the reflexive irritation. Dimitri didn't mean to mistake him for his brother, but it was always frustrating whenever he did so. The last time he had done that, Felix had snarled at him, which had caused Dimitri to withdraw within himself and mutter incessantly to his ghosts until exhaustion had claimed him. 

The aftermath in the morning had been entirely unpleasant. If Dimitri had been self-deprecating before, he had been tenfold that day.

Felix slowly lowered himself, careful not to spook him any more. "Dimitri, can you stand up?" he asked gently.

"Glenn, why are you here? The war - the war is over, isn't it?" Dimitri whispered, frenzied. "Unless it isn't? Is it ongoing still? Have - have I been dreaming all this time?"

Nervousness roiled in his stomach, but Felix made sure not to show it. He closed his eyes, counted to five, and tried to channel Dedue's immutable restraint and calmness. He reopened his eyes and said, "I'm not Glenn; I'm Felix. The war is over, Dimitri. Fodlan is at peace. You're safe now."

Dimitri blinked. "F-Felix?"

"Yes, Felix. I'm Felix. Can you stand?"

It took a few tries, but Felix eventually got Dimitri up on his feet. Dimitri swayed as though he was on slick ice, although he thankfully kept upright even when Felix guided him to his bed.

After yanking the covers back, Felix had Dimitri lie down and tucked in. He belatedly realized that his eyepatch was still on, but decided that it would be more trouble to try to wrestle the thing off of Dimitri's stringy mane. The man had what could be five years of experience of sleeping with it on, so there likely wasn't going to be an issue of discomfort. 

When Felix began to move away, ready to clear away today's evidence of Dimitri's bouts, a hot hand wrapped itself around his wrist. Felix gave a startled yelp when he was pulled unceremoniously onto the bed. The next thing he knew, he was pinned underneath the king.

While Dimitri didn't place any weight on him, Felix keenly felt the smothering presence above him. On instinct, Felix buckled and writhed, searching for a space to scramble for an escape, but Dimitri wouldn't budge. Instead, he grasped Felix's wrists and held them above his head. His lone eye was fixed on his face, yet the foggy blankness in his gaze revealed that he wasn't seeing Felix at all.

"Glenn, don't torment me anymore. Please," Dimitri implored with a croak. "I'll - I'll kill her. I swear. I'll kill her."

"Edelgard is dead, boar," Felix hissed, desperately trying to jerk his hands free. Futile. "The war is over! Glenn is not here!"

His words, however, went unheard. Unsurprising.

Felix wasn't afraid that Dimitri would seriously inflict harm upon him. The worst he could do to him was add bruises, but Felix hardly had the patience to act as Dimitri's...whatever this may be. His plush toy? And, hell, he wasn't going to wait until the beast would collapse on top of him by the time he got sleepy. Actually, thinking about that was starting to concern Felix. Dimitri might not hurt him when awake, but he could when unconscious.

Death via asphyxia. All because Felix couldn't get the idiot king off of him due to his great weight. 

Felix's mind quickly cycled through possible avenues of approaching the problem. His first solution was to kick Dimitri in the groin, but decided to use that as a last resort. Just how did Dimitri respond to pain in this state? Felix wasn't so reckless to try to find out. His second solution was to coax Dimitri into releasing him. 

As much as it pained him to do so, what other choice did he have?

"Dima."

Dimitri drew in a sharp intake of breath.

"Dima, are you with me?"

"Felix?" he murmured, voice hesitant and shy. 

"Yes, it's me," Felix said. "Dima, could you move?"

Dimitri stared down at him, and Felix watched second by second as the cloudy haze in his eye began to clear. The king sluggishly extracted himself from Felix, leaving Felix enough space to sit up. He rubbed his sore wrists and glanced at Dimitri, who continued to look at him.

"Dimitri?" Felix probed warily.

"Felix, I..." Dimitri licked his lips and dropped his gaze. There was a slight tremor in his shoulder, as if there was a chill in the air. That wasn't the case whatsoever since the fireplace was keeping the bedroom cozily warm. "M-my apologies."

He held in a sigh. "It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But - Felix, I - "

"It's fine." Felix slipped off of the bed. "I'm going to clean up here. Go lie down, will you?" Dimitri didn't do that, but Felix's day wasn't going to end unless he got the man to sleep. Felix huffed and tugged on the sleeve of Dimitri's shirt. "Dima, lie down."

Dimitri's eye flew back to his face. 

Felix's tug became more insistent. "Dima."

Wordlessly (and finally), Dimitri obeyed. He slipped under the covers and allowed Felix to bring the blanket to his chin. Felix once again realized that he missed the chance to get the eyepatch off again. Goddess, he had to remember that it wasn't something glued to Dimitri's face. This time, Felix did sigh. Whatever, it wasn't as though Dimitri was complaining about it. 

"Felix, I'm sorry for inconveniencing you," Dimitri rasped mournfully.

"Stop apologizing, Dimitri," Felix scolded lightly. "I said that it's fine, didn't I? Now go to sleep." For a good measure, he patted his head and said, "Everything will be all better by the time you wake up, Dima."

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

"If that's what you wish."

With that, Dimitri closed his eye. 

**Author's Note:**

> I made my title that way because, for Felix, calling Dimitri Dima is the cringe equivalent of calling him "my beloved darling sweetheart."


End file.
